


Adore

by NahaFlowers



Category: The Hour
Genre: Bel just can't stop touching Freddie, F/M, Light Angst, it's a problem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 21:08:26
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13132245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NahaFlowers/pseuds/NahaFlowers
Summary: Bel pretends to be drunker than she is, so she can give in to the strange impulse she feels to touch Freddie. A lot.Inspired by the song Adore by Amy SharkCrossposted from Tumblr.





	Adore

**Author's Note:**

> _Get me a drink I get drunk off one sip_
> 
> _Just so I can adore you_
> 
> \- Adore by Amy Shark

Bel is drunk.

 

Well- that isn’t quite true. She is slightly tipsy, certainly, but she knows what drunk feels like, and this isn’t it.

 

She is pretending to be far drunker than she is, so she can do what she feels the urge to do alarmingly often these days, and touch Freddie. And then blame it on the drink.

 

“Freddie,” she says, then waves her hand in front of his face and says again, more insistently, “Freddie!”

 

He turns to her with a smile, and Bel can be honest enough with herself, at least, to admit it’s a beautiful sight. That’s not weird, is it? To think one’s best friend beautiful?

 

Perhaps she’s drunker than she thought. In any case, “you have a lovely face,” she says, carefully slurring her words, just enough to make it believable, at least for Freddie. She sees Lix looking sceptical out of the corner of her eye, but she ignores it. She strokes Freddie’s face. Then kisses his cheek for good measure.

 

Freddie looks like his brain has gone offline for a moment. Oh dear.

 

Bel shrugs. “It’s a good face,” she says, trying to sound nonchalant. Freddie swallows and nods.

 

“Thank you, Moneypenny,” he says hoarsely, and right now, Bel revels in the nickname, equal parts affectionate and teasing. This is how she always wants it to be. “You too,” he adds quickly, and then clarifies. “Your face I mean. It’s good.” Freddie winces at the awkwardness of his words, this man who is still a boy in so many ways, who usually is so good with words, sees a path through them where Bel sees only obstacles.

 

She laughs a little too loudly to cover up the sudden sharp and piercing affection she feels for him. He looks up at her, hurt, and she takes her hand in his, hoping to show him, in actions if not words, that she meant nothing by it.

 

It is only when Bel begins to kiss his knuckles that Freddie pulls away.

 

“Bel,” he says, harshly, “you’re drunk.”

 

“No I’m not,” she says, indignantly, and winces because she’s no longer bothering to slur her words and it is immediately obvious how not-drunk she is. Lix looks up at her knowingly from just across the room. Freddie is looking at her curiously now, intently, like he does whenever he is determined to get to the bottom of a mystery, but there is a bright hope in his eyes as well, a hope Bel cannot bring herself to confirm, only to crush it later with her own inability to feel and act and love the way he wants.

 

She feels scrutinised, trapped on both sides. She clears her throat, backs away from Freddie. “I’m going to the bathroom,” she mumbles, and flees, and pretends not to notice the candle that had burned in her best friend’s eyes for mere moments gutter out. Tries not to feel like the worst person in the world for taking advantage of him like that.

 

She swears to herself it won’t happen again, but the problem is she can’t help herself. She _needs_  to touch Freddie, in the same way she needs air or sustenance or news or Freddie himself, just his mere presence ever beside her.

 

He will continue to hope, and she will continue to disappoint him.

 

That’s just the way things are, with them.


End file.
